Musings
by Pyral
Summary: Take a deep breath in, and out. Take a moment to relax.


It's raining on Fablehaven preserve.

Up in his office, Stan sleeps on his desk. His life has been papers and restless nights ever since he became captain, and although he wears the position with pride, it still mercilessly takes its toll.

A streak of golden light decorates the floor as someone moves around the hallways. The door creaks, and Ruth leans in. There has been no sound from the office for a while, and she had grown concerned. She studies her husband's dozing form for a moment, sets down the crossbow she had been polishing, and picks up the blanket tossed over the back of his chair. She always keeps it there just for these moments.

Just down the hall, Warren lays back on his bed, feet kicked up against the wall. He usually stays at the cabin, but he arrived home from a mission just that past night, and he doesn't want to be away from his family right now. He's tired, but the wind is blowing outside and he's always been a light sleeper. Maybe he'd fall asleep in a half hour or so.

He sits up and prods at his arm. His wrist had been wrapped and tended to right after he had sprained it, but the idea of being injured hadn't sunk in until now. It aches.

He sighs and lies back down again, waiting for the rain to lull him to sleep, whenever it happens to.

Tanu, despite his usually early bedtime, is still up, fiddling with and sorting out his potions like he does when nervous. A small beaker of pink liquid bubbles over its flame next to him, casting a rosy glow over his cheeks. He would take a sleeping potion, but he's long since grown immune. Such are the side effects of his profession. Along with the many chemical burns, of course.

There are several quiet pops, and Tanu pulls on his gloves. The next batch is ready. Hopefully this one will work properly.

Elise had dozed off as soon as she had sat in her chair. Her computer still buzzes and displays the unfinished line of code she has been working on, and in her sleep, she has accidentally left a long line of semicolons that she'd have to delete in the morning.

She mutters in her sleep and beats her hand against her desk. Her dreams were restless memories of her brothers, her mom, who had worked so hard to be there and keep them all afloat. She remembers bravely defending her brothers against the bullies that plagued them, but the dream turns dark and demonic and she jerks awake. She shakes her head to clear it and squints at her monitor. It takes time to process, but she notices the discrepancy. Those semicolons were a problem.

Dale is still awake in the barn, sticking at the pile of hay with his pitchfork. His bedtime is when the work is done and today went slower than usual. Hugo sits at his side, pushing together a small tower of sawdust, and Viola looms above them both.

A drop of water lands in Dale's hair. He hastily ducks down, thinking Viola is trying to spit at him, but then he sees the drip is constant and the roof must have a leak. He sighs and grabs the ladder, and reminds himself to drink some coffee tomorrow.

Vanessa is waiting for her bamalizard to fall asleep before she even tries. It's the first addition to her new collection, and after days of keeping it close on the mission and hours of setting up its new habitat, she doesn't want to risk it attempting escape like these creatures tend to do. One night in its tank and it should be satisfied enough.

She watches the creature scramble around on its stubby legs, and carefully reaches in to adjust the heat lamp. The bamalizard looks at her with one bulgy eye before settling on a rock and laying down to sleep.

Vanessa takes a breath and lays her head down on her desk. If only people were that easy to be with.

The satyrs had invited Seth over for a movie, but now that it's over he has to walk home in the rain. He pulls up his hood and takes out his umbrella from his emergency kit, but when he pushes it open and holds it up, he realizes just how many little rips there are in it. Maybe it was a bad idea to keep his pocketknife in the same bag.

He sighs and marches through the mud. He'll rest at home. His bed is waiting.

The storm is still going strong, but Kendra doesn't mind. The rain had always been calming to her. Her quilt is warm, her room is quiet, and the soft pitter-patter on the windows is like a lullaby. She wants to read one more chapter. She's at the most wonderful part, the moment when everything starts coming together and she can see the story with everything connected, but she's so tired and everything seems perfect to just lay down and sleep.

She leans back and holds up the book. Maybe if she keeps going, she'll be able to finish the book and figure it all out, just like she loves to. One more chapter...

All around the preserve, the hamadryads giggle and congregate under the protection of their leaves, and the gnomes scatter for shelter. The centaur children stomp their hooves into the ground and decorate the dirt with hoof prints. A lone astrid ducks through the trees, scanning the preserve for danger as the royal family had requested him to. The fairies flit around the garden, brushing raindrops off the flowers and straightening the blades of grass.

The rain falls on.


End file.
